The Conclusion
by Aingeal de Delgaty
Summary: Sherlock has reached a conclusion and John really isn't over it. Yet. ;) Johnlock. Rated T for cursing. (John sort of flips out).
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**The italics are Sherlock's thoughts. He's kind of arguing with himself...**

**Enjoy!**

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"That's decided then,"Sherlock announced to no one in particular. But it could've been to the general surroundings. Or himself. It didn't really matter though because the issue had been thought over and Sherlock had finally come to a conclusion.

"JAWN!" Sherlock called.

The man in question walked into the sitting room from the kitchen with a questioning look on his face.

"What?"

"John," Sherlock began.

'_No_. _Stop. You don't know the repercussions yet!' _

"I have been watching very closely for the past month-"

'_Stop. Just stop. This is ridiculous.'_

"And I have decided that-"

'_No! Don't!'_

"I'm not buying the milk this time."

'_WHY WOULD YOU- wait. What?'_

Sherlock smirked.

John raised an eyebrow and gave Sherlock a skeptical look.

"You didn't really have to tell me that."

'_Ok, forget repercussions. Do it.'_

John turned his back to Sherlock and walked back to the kitchen.

Sherlock waited. It could have been no time at all. But it could have been a year. Or just ten seconds. It didn't really matter though because the issue had been thought over once again and Sherlock had come to a conclusion. Once again.

"JAWN!"

"Sherlock! What do you need?" John asked, slightly annoyed.

"John," Sherlock began again,

"I have been watching something else very closely the past month-" Sherlock watched John's reaction and saw that he was slightly curious to hear the rest, (seeing as Sherlock wasn't asking him to hand him a bloody pen or the phone in his own damn pocket which he could very easily get himself). Sherlock steepled his fingers and put them to his lips.

'_Good, add suspense.'_

"And I have decided that... I think you're attractive."

'_That was really lame.'_

Sherlock dropped his hands down to his sides.

'_Dammit.'_

A ghost of a grin skirted across John's face.

"If you need anything else, just call," John chuckled as he walked back into the kitchen to make himself some tea.

"Jawn!"

"I'm not gay."

"Fine. When you get over your sexuality crises, just call."

"Maybe I will..." John mumbled.

Sherlock grinned in the next room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**nothing?! Nothing, tra la la?!**

**yes. I own nothing.**

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JOHN'S POV:

"JAWN!"  
John set the kettle on the counter and walked to the sitting room to find Sherlock sitting perched on top of his chair, surveying John with some sort of eagerness. John had been waiting for Sherlock to speak again. It had been about three days since the last case, but Sherlock had remained taciturn up until this point.  
"What?"  
"John," Sherlock began,"I have been watching something very closely the past month-" then stopped. John waited patiently for the rest.

"And I have decided that-" Sherlock paused and John felt a twinge of fear.  
'_Oh God, what's he going to do now?'_  
"I'm not buying the milk this time," Sherlock smirked. John raised an eyebrow and gave Sherlock a skeptical look.  
"You didn't really have to tell me that." John turned his back to Sherlock and walked back into the kitchen. He felt a little disappointed.

'_Sherlock hasn't spoken in three days and when he does, he has to tell me that he's not going to buy the milk? Fine.'_ John stopped.  
'_I just bought milk...'_  
John sighed and grabbed the kettle, about to fill it when he was called again.  
"JAWN!"  
"Sherlock! What do you need?" John asked, slightly annoyed. He just wanted some tea!  
"John," Sherlock began again, "I have been watching something else very closely the past month-" John cocked an eyebrow and waited. Sherlock steepled his fingers and put them to his lips.  
'_Damn git," _John thought to himself.  
"And I have decided that... I think you're attractive." Sherlock dropped his hands down to his sides and seemed to scowl at himself. Or maybe it was to John because John really hadn't expected THAT. John surprised himself when a grin flicked across his face._ 'I should have known he'd say_ _something stupid like this.'_ The more John thought about it, the funnier it got.  
"If you need anything else, just call," John chuckled as he walked back into the kitchen to make himself some tea.  
"Jawn!" Sherlock whined.  
"I'm not gay," John reminded him.  
"Fine," Sherlock huffed, "when you get over your sexuality crises, just call."  
"Maybe I will..." John mumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing- ta!**

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SHERLOCK'S POV:

I listened to John bustling around the kitchen making tea for a while.  
I steeple my fingers and put them to my lips and waited. Just a moment or two longer, because I'm considerate of John's space.  
'_He's over it by now._' I leap up from my perch on the chair and stroll into the kitchen with an evil grin.

John is standing with his back facing me, pouring the boiling water from the kettle into his mug. I creep up to him and lean forward, pressing my hands against the counter top, trapping him.  
"John..." I growl in his ear.  
John spins around and gasps in fright, and all but squeaks,"fuck, Sherlock!" He ducks down and crawls around me. I'm all too surprised by his actions to try to stop him. Once he's around me he leaps up, shouting "Fucking fuck- dammit fuck- shit!" So basically screaming obscenities that make absolutely no sense. I just turn around to watch the scene unfold.

John runs out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. He comes running back down the stairs with his coat and keys, still yelling nonsense. It would be really funny too, if John didn't run out the door yelling, "Fucking Sherlock!" When asked what was wrong by our land lady.

I watch as John runs out the door, slamming it behind him. I chance a quick look at her, who stands there glaring at me. I duck behind the doorway to avoid her glare. "Way to kill the moment, John." I mumble to myself.

"Sherlock!" She calls. I really don't like talking to her when she's upset with me. It makes me feel guilty, but... "Sherlock," She calls again, "get down here!" I peek around the corner to see her standing at the landing, waiting. I sigh and walk down the stairs.

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MRS.H POV:

I wait patiently for Sherlock to walk down the stairs. He descends the stairs with a gloomy look on his face.

'_Oh dear...'_ I think to myself. He stands in front of me, head down, waiting for a quick scolding, I'm sure. "What have you done this time?" I ask. Sherlock's head lifts in surprise. "What have _I_ done?" His voice low, filled with anger and quite possibly... Hurt? "It's what _John's_ done!" He shouted. I jump in surprise. I hadn't expected Sherlock to shout like that. Not at me anyway. "Sherlock," I start, but it was no use. Sherlock ran back up the stairs shouting, "He should have been over it! He _was _over it!_ He is over it!" _Sherlock ran into the flat, slamming the door behind him like an angsty teenager. I giggle at the silly comparison.

'_What on earth...?'_ I think to myself. He's not usually this put off. Especially not with John! But I suppose I best not worry about it too much. They can sort it out themselves... I think... I walk into my flat, just a bit more flustered than when I came out to see what the ruckus was all about. But that's alright. Nothing a hot cuppa can't fix!

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**A/N: Silly ! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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JOHN'S POV:

After running out the flat I had cooled down enough to figure out where I was going.  
"Dammit, Sherlock," I growl, "I said I would tell you when I was ready, you bloody idiot!" I then realised that I was walking in the direction of Tesco and stopped. Tesco is too far to walk to, I don't have enough money to get a cab there and back, and I'd gone shopping yesterday. So that plan's ruined... The pub perhaps? No. I went just the other day with Greg after the case.  
I sigh. Maybe I overreacted. But it was Sherlock's fault! He knew I wasn't ready. But really... Should I have been? Maybe... I turn back around and start walking down the street towards 221b.  
'_Ok, you_ are_ over it,'_ I reason, _'you just need to set the ground rules.' _I feel a lot better now. _'Yes, ground rules. Good.' _Then I stop.  
RULES? He still keeps experiments in the fridge no matter how many times I tell him to get rid of them. How in the hell is he going to respect any of the "rules" I come up with on the spot? I turn around, away from Baker Street, then turn back again. One more turn...

I don't know what to do! I head to Baker Street.  
"The matter will never be resolved if I'm not there," I huff.  
I trudge up the street, mourning the loss of all the pints I could be drowning myself in down at the pub.  
I stop again.  
Maybe I should have the rules before hand...  
Yep. Good idea.  
I turn around one more time and walk to the pub with a grin on my face.

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(Some time later...)

SHERLOCK'S POV

The door slams. I listen as John clumsily climbs the steps to the flat. The door opens and he stops in the doorway. I refuse to turn around. I'm laying on my side, facing the back of the couch with my knees bent. I refuse to look at John because I know he's been at the pub.  
And I'm not dealing with this.  
"You're drunk," I state bluntly.  
"Hmm," John hums in response. I wait for him to defend himself, but nothing comes. After a few moments I hear him walk away. I look up, trying to see behind my shoulder. I jump up and follow him upstairs to his room. He stands in front of his bed for a moment, then climbs in, not even bothering to change into pyjamas, all the while paying absolutely no attention to me. He falls asleep almost immediately.  
This time I think about it and come to the same conclusion...  
Twice.  
I walk to the bed and climb in.  
"He's over it," I think, smiling to myself. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and curl up beside him, resting his head on my shoulder. I listen to his slow, even breathing, allowing myself to feel sleep tug at my conscience.  
He'll be dead asleep all night. He won't mind.


	5. Chapter 5

SHERLOCK'S POV:

Sleep comes to me slower than I thought it would, I hate the feeling. The vulnerability of sleep and the process to reach just the REM dream state. Tedious. Which is why I don't deign to sleep often. But right now, holding John so close to me, it's oddly enjoyable. In fact, I lavish in the warmth, the touch. I want to stay here forever. I'd better find a place to put this in my mind palace, maybe within a special room I've labeled "John".  
For the past month I've been striving to stay out of that section, but it takes up so much space, I can't avoid it. And I can't bring myself to delete any of it, no matter how socially incorrect it is to have all this information about one's friend, colleague, and flatmate; it's sentiment.  
But who the hell gives a damn about being 'socially correct'? What should it matter when I've gotten my way by being the very definition of 'socially incorrect'?  
"Hmm..." John gives a content sigh and turns slightly in his sleep. I can't prevent the smile from creeping onto my face, which I chide myself for. Honestly, I don't quite understand how I can feel so much for one person. I know that sentiment could end up hurting me. Or John. I know I need to take this in slowly. I can't process this quickly like an experiment or a case. They're easier, anyway, in every sense. But having thought about everything that could go wrong, that which could go right, I've decided that this is, in a way, like an experiment; I need to catalogue reactions to different situations and explore this new thing. And when something goes wrong: record, add new variables, independent and dependent, (such as sharing a bed), try again; because he won't mind.  
Sleep finally brings all coherent thoughts to a close and I peacefully drift off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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JOHN'S POV

"Ugh," I groan. I try to turn on my side, but there's a weight on my chest. I open my eyes.

Dear god...

There's a sleeping Sherlock sprawled half on the bed, half on me; his arm looped around my neck and one leg between mine. Oh god, why is he here? My face heats up in embarrassment. I can't move him, I don't want him to wake up in such a compromising position. So I lie still and listen to the quiet, rhythmic breathing of his slumber.

No. I can't let this happen. I lift up my free hand and grab below his elbow, trying to pull him away.

"Nngh... John...?" He slurs. My breath hitches and I stop pulling. "John," he mumbles, "John."

I wait for him to fall back asleep. He lays still again and I can finally breathe. I continue to pull gently on his arm. He lets go and I leave his hand on my chest, thinking that if I bothered him anymore than that he would wake. I sidle down the bed beneath him, trying to ever so gently roll him to the side.

"Oh god," I chastise myself for liking the feeling. I'm almost free but something holds me back. Sherlock's hand that I had abandoned is now holding a fistful of my shirt, pinning me there.

"John."

I stop. Sherlock bends his knees and rolls onto his hands and knees over me. Our eyes are not align with each other, but I can tell that he's staring at me intently, though I refuse to meet his gaze. I stare, instead, at his collarbone and wait.

"Calm down," Sherlock scolds. I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding and chance a look at his face. He's grinning at me, but this time it wasn't so much of a sneer as a genuine smile. I turn my head to the side, trying, in vain, to put some distance between us.

"Sherlock-" I start, but Sherlock interrupts me.

"Where were you last night?" he fervently asks.

The tone, the question, I don't understand any of it. He knows where I was, why should he have to ask?

"But you already know that," I respond after sometime.

"No, I don't." I turn in surprise all too quickly, completely forgetting how little space there is between us. Our lips meet and Sherlock is quick to complete the kiss. My nose really hurts now from making contact with his, but god, his lips were so warm and soft, I couldn't be bothered by it. Though, (I later realised), he did seem a little confused as to where to go, I helped him out by parting my lips, and running my tongue lightly over his bottom lip, encouraging him to do so as well. I lean my neck up to press deeper into the kiss. Sherlock, not expecting this, pulled back. I couldn't let that happen, though. I reach and grab the nape of his neck to pull him back to me, to feel his lips against mine.

At this point I can't stop. My hand slides his shirt up so I can caress his back. A needy groan elicits from Sherlock and he rocks over me. I straddle him and bring him even closer.

I moan into it as the kiss grows even more heated. Sherlock takes this as an opportunity to pull off my shirt, trying his hardest to keep contact. I mash my lips to his, forcing all my thoughts and desires to the needy touch.

It pains me to stop, but I can't keep the thought to myself, not when we've come so far. I break the kiss just long enough to pull his head down to whisper in his ear,

"I think I'm over it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

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Sherlock and I lay on the bed in a glowing, overjoyed heap. Sherlock lay in his original position; half on me, half on the bed with one arm looped around my neck. I run my fingers through his hair and rest my other hand on his back.

Things really couldn't have been better.  
"Mmm," Sherlock hums, "John."  
"What?"  
"Where were you last night?" I sit quietly for a moment, trying to remember what he was talking about.  
"Where were you last night?" He repeats. He tilts his head and looks up at me.  
"Why are you asking? You already know where I was," I mumble.  
"Yes and no," Sherlock states, "I knew where you were, I just don't understand WHY."  
"Just figure it out. Deduce where I was," I sigh despite myself. It's not hard to figure out, but is this conversation really necessary at this point?  
"When you got home last night your steps were staggered like you were drunk so you could have been at the pub, but didn't drink enough to have lost your pride to accost me, therefor that rules out the pub. You immediately went to sleep, being that it was late and however much alcohol you had could have made you very tired but seeing how you reacted to our "discussions" yesterday the exhaustion is more likely due to mental exhaustion, but what we said wasn't enough. You had to've talked to another.  
"This morning you didn't try to move me when I woke," Sherlock props himself up on one arm and I turn away from his amused expression as a blush creeps up my face, "meaning that you've probably come to terms with our relationship for what it is." Sherlock's expressions clears to that of understanding. "Oh. You were at Harry's because she's the only one you really felt comfortable talking to about this seeing as she's gay and it would be much easier to talk to her about 'coming out', as some say. Also, I know you were there because just my admitting to you how I felt could not be enough to exhaust you like that. Yet whenever you go to see her you tend to act drained and tired. Now the two of those combined in a certain amount of time is more likely to do damage to one's self restraint," Sherlock finally concludes. I smile at him. "Yes, I was at Harry's. She's the only one that could really understand what I was thinking." I rest my head down on the pillow and begin to chuckle a bit.  
"What did I miss?" Sherlock asks bewildered. "Why are you laughing?"  
I hold back my laughter for a couple seconds, but it still lingers in my voice. "The best part about seeing Harry, as opposed to popular belief, is that we can actually have decent discussions. Also we didn't drink." I start laughing and Sherlock lifts himself up to look at me fully. I put my hand over my face and turn to the side. Sherlock quietly waits for my laughing to stop. "Brilliant, John. You are wonderful, _magnificent_," he says in mock praise.  
"Oh don't be butt hurt because I tricked you. After all I didn't ask you to be so pushy- this is payback."  
Sherlock looked at me with a cool, calculating expression then smirked. "I'm just going to have to get you back then," he growled, leaning in.  
"I can't wait," I laughed. I cupped his cheek and closed the distance between us for a slow, sweet kiss.

Needless to say Sherlock did get his revenge.

It was fucking great.

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** A/N: And that concludes 'The Conclusion'. I hope you guys enjoyed it, (but if you didn't, why did you read this far? Are you stupid or are you just incredibly bored?) Thanks for reading! **


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